


Under the Dornish Sun

by Shewolf_of_highgarden



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Families of Choice, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Relationship(s), brandon is destructive but trying, cat and ned are dead, kind of, so is lyanna, uncle & niece - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-05-04 18:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shewolf_of_highgarden/pseuds/Shewolf_of_highgarden
Summary: When Catelyn and Ned die in a car crash the children are sent to live with their Aunt Lysa. Lysa refuses to take Arya  and with few people left to turn to Benjen talks Brandon into taking the girl in. Still haunted by the death of Lyanna and not really fit for child care, Brandon is way over his head. Luckily for everyone involved Brandon’s old flame Ashara is there to help.





	1. Benjen I

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Sorry if this chapter seems rushed, i needed to get through it to get the plot going! I know that there are plot holes, but we are just going to go with it and i will try to patch them up later. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

“Why can’t I stay with you?”

 

“Because I won’t be around often, my job takes up too much time. You would be lonely.”

 

“Not if Jon stayed too, we could take care of each other.”

 

“Arya…” Bejen said tiredly, glancing at his niece in the rearview mirror. They had had this conversation at least ten different times this week and this was the second time today.

 

He wanted to be able to tell his niece yes, but he could not. He was a man of the Night’s Watch and the Wall was no place for a little girl. _And Dorne is no place for a Stark_ a little voice in his head said quietly. There was no choice, though. Someone needed to look after Arya and Lysa was no longer an option. Benjen’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.

 

If Cately or Ned had been alive to hear what that woman had said, what she had accused Ned of…but that did not matter now. Ned and Catelyn would not hear it, or if they could they would be unable to do anything about it. The car crash had ensured that. His brother had always hired the best people and Harwin was a great with cars, an excellent driver…but that night the roads had been slippery, the rain from the day before turned to ice. At least with Lya there was someone to blame, but who can you blame when nature conspires against you?

 

The household staff and Benjen had looked after the children between the crash and the funeral, but that was all they could do. The will that Ned and Cat left had sent the children to Lysa Tully should something happen. Why they had made that decision Benjen could not guess. Better to have left them in the care of the Blackfish or to care for each other in Winterfell rather than with Lysa at this point.

 

Benjen had not known how mad the woman had gotten until she showed up a day before the funeral, looking like a mad and rather haggard version of Cat. She had started saying all sorts of things to anyone she came across. The Lannisters had done it, that bitch Cersei probably cut the breaks herself. Ned had borrowed money to keep up appearances and to keep Cat happy and could not pay it back. The Boltons were in league with the Lannisters and were trying to take control of the North.

 

She kept going until the Black Fish arrived the day of the funeral and caught her telling a horrified and most likely traumatized Sansa that the Lannisters would go after the children next. Though, she supposed that they might let Sansa live and marry her off to Joffrey or the imp or someone because she was a Stark and just so damned pretty. The Blackfish came upon them, grabbed Lysa by the arm and told Sansa that her aunt was just overtired and the grief was making her say strange things and to pay her no mind, he then hauled Lysa off to lecture her. Benjen was not sure what happened when the two disappeared into a guest room, but judging from the muffled booming voice the Blackfish was in no mood to deal with his mad little niece today and the Stranger would take him before he let Lysa upset those children any more than they already were.

 

Benjen had gone to check on Sansa. He found her in her room after softly knocking on her door.

 

“Are you okay, sweetling?” Benjen asked, coming into the room. It looked so bare, most of her belonging had been packed in boxes and suitcases.

 

“Yes, Uncle. Aunt Lysa only said all of that because…she needs someone to blame, right?” Sansa asked, giving him a wobbly smile. Sometimes Sansa’s ability to be composed in almost all situations was unnerving.

_No_ he wanted to tell her _no, your aunt said those things because she is mad and said the last part because she is vicious._ You do not tell those thoughts to your, twelve-year old niece however, even when she sounds so mature for her age. Benjen wondered distantly if Sansa and the rest of them had been ease dropping or the adults talked much too loudly.

 

“Very observant of you. Sometimes when someone is very upset they say things they do not really mean. Your Aunt Lysa is simply confused right now, give her time and soon she will be better, I’m sure she will even apologize. You just have to be patient, but,’ and for this he bent down so he was eye to eye with her and put a hand on her should, ‘ should say anything else that is…upsetting tell me or Great Uncle Brynden, yes?”

 

“I can do that.”

 

Benjen stood up and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Sansa, I know this is very hard for you, but I need your help today.”

 

“Of course, Uncle Benjen.”

 

“Your little sister and brothers will need you to look after them today. Do you think you can do that for me?”

 

“Yes, I can do that.” Sansa said with a smile that was a bit too forced. Catelyn had trained her eldest daughter all too well.

 

“Good. Can you go find your sister and make sure she is ready? We need to leave soon.”

 

Sansa nodded and walked off in the direction of Arya’s bedroom. Benjen watched her leave before making his way to the kitchen. Robb and Edmure were making sure Bran and Rickon were getting ready and Benjen needed a moment of peace and quiet. Instead of finding a quiet kitchen, however, he found Jon sitting at the breakfast table having a staring contest with a piece of toast.

 

Grabbing a beer from the fridge Benjen made his over and sat next to his nephew. “I think the toast is winning, Jon.”

 

Jon blinked for a moment before turning to look at Benjen. “Isn’t it a bit early for beer, Uncle Benjen?”

 

The boy looked tired, Benjen noted, dark bags adding solemnity to an already solemn face. “I think I earned this one. You know, Jon I want to make sure you are certain in your choice. You do not have to go the Night’s Watch. You’re young yet, I’m sure we could find somewhere else.”

 

Jon shook his head. “Where else would I go, Uncle? Besides I want to join the Watch. The Starks have joined the Watch for generations and I want to do my ancestors proud.”

 

“You already do. Your father would be very proud of you. The way you have helped your siblings and kept yourself together would have made him so proud. Or at least prouder, he was always proud of you.”

 

Jon looked dubiously at him, but still muttered a “yes, uncle.”

 

“Hey, I’m serious. Whenever I talked to him he always said how proud he was of you. How responsible you were, how smart you were. I know Ned did not always say that to you, but he said them to me. I know my brother and he would be proud of you.”

 

“I miss him. . . I’m going to miss my brothers and sisters.”

 

“I’m sure you do. I still miss your grandfather and grandmother and your aunt Lyanna, but they are still with us I am sure. You can still come home and visit them.”

 

“It will be a long time before I can come and do that.” Jon said softly.

 

Benjen could not completely deny that. None of the Stark children would come back to Winterfell until Rob was eighteen and even then he doubted any but Robb would ever live there again. Coming back home even to visit the crypts in the next three years would be difficult. Then again if Jon really did go to the Watch Benjen could bring Jon to the crypt. Winterfell was Benjen’s home as well and he had every right to visit.

 

“Tell me when you want to come visit and I’ll do my best to bring you, Jon. This is your home just as much as your siblings.”

 

Jon did not reply, instead opting to take a bite of his toast. Benjen had a feeling that the boy was thinking about Catelyn. Cat was a good mother, a good woman in general, but her relationship with Jon was strained. She was cold to the boy, she took care of him but not with the warmth and happiness she did with her children. It was clear that when she took care of him she was doing her duty and not much more. Jon had never seemed very at home in Winterfell, at least not when Cat was around, so Benjen could guess that it felt wrong to Jon to come back with none of his siblings present.  

 

Instead of saying anything he put his hand on Jon’s shoulder and squeezed before taking a swig of the beer. He was still trying to come up with something to say, or trying to figure out what his brother or father would say, when Brynden Tully entered the kitchen looking somber. “The cars are here, it’s time to go.”

 

“We’ll be right out.” Benjen told the man, watching as he nodded and left. Benjen let out a deep sigh and stood, stretching a bit. “Let’s get this over with.” Benjen said for Jon waiting for the boy to get up and start towards the door.

Following him out to the foyer, Benjen saw all of the kids with the Tullys around them. Rob was straightening Bran’s tie, Sansa was holding baby Rickon, and Arya was standing staring into space. Seeing Arya so quiet and still was eerie. The girl was usually full of life, always laughing or yelling and running. From the lack of yelling he heard he doubted she even fought against the black dress she was to wear to the Funeral. To see her so quiet with her Stark grey eyes glazed eyes made the situation all too real. Whatever small hope that Benjen had that this was a horrible nightmare vanished when he looked at her.

 

Jon went over to her and took her hand. As soon as Jon took her hand, she moved closer into a hug. Looking at the two of them reminded him of Brandon and Lyanna. The image hurt. Once upon a time his own siblings were happy, now he had lost another and Brandon. . . Brandon did not even show up for the funeral. Benjen had called, had begged, but nothing he had done or said could convince Brandon could come.

 

“I-I just can’t Ben.” Brandon had said on the phone the last time they spoke, he had sounded so broken that Benjen stopped trying to convince him.

 

Benjen stood back as the Blackfish herded the kids out to the waiting cars to go to the original Winterfell. Benjen, the kids, and the Blackfish would be in one car with Lysa, her son, and Edmure in another. Originally Lysa was supposed to be in the car with the kids instead of the Blackfish, but after what she said to Sansa everyone seemed to agree she should be in the other car.

 

The ride to the original home of the Kings of Winter seemed to last forever. The car quiet and tense. When they actually made it time seemed to speed up. A large group of people stood in front of the gates with flowers and yelling condolences. There was enough of a crowd that everyone exited the car and shoved through the little bit of distance left between them and the crypts. After they passed through the gates everything became a blur. Much like his parents funeral and Lya’s funeral he was fine (or as fine as he could be in this situation) before he saw the crypts, but once he saw the coffins and was at the steps that lead down to that darkness things went quiet and dark. He was there, but he wasn’t.

 

He was in that quiet place when something sparked him back. A small hand had wiggled its way into his and he looked down to see Arya chewing on her lip tears brimming in her eyes. He looked back to see the coffins had been lowered into the grounds. Later this month statues would be brought down to mark where Ned and Cat laid. Benjen squeezed Arya’s hand, hoping to ground her like her hand was grounding him.

 

He held her hand for the rest of the burial. He held her hand as they got back in the cars to return to the main house for the reception. He held her hand the hold ride back. It was comforting to have someone to hold him to the ground when everything in him wanted him to forget. He would have greeted all of the guests and received condolences, but Jon had lead her off to try to get her to eat, even if Jon did not seem to able to stomach eating. He had gone around the room receiving the condolences of friends and colleagues of Ned and Cat. Things went smoothly until an hour before the end, when Robb was going to double check the rooms to make sure nothing was left. Lysa took this as an opportunity to show her crazy side.

 

“I’m taking all of them expect for the bastard boy and girl.” Lysa told an obviously confused Leona Manderly.

 

“Bastard girl? I thought Ned only had one.”

 

“I’m speaking of Arya, of course. She’s not Cat’s, I don’t know whose she is, but she is not my sisters. All you have to do is look at the girl to see that.” Lysa said this loud enough for the room to get quieter, eyes looking on curiously.

 

“Lysa, you’re confused. Arya is Cat’s I remember when Cat was pregnant with her.” Leona said gently.

 

“No, I promise you she is not. Look at her, she looks like the bastard boy. I’ll take the others, but I’m no orphanage and I will not take in Eddard’s mistakes.”

 

Benjen saw that Brynden was moving towards his niece, to try to get a hold of the situation at the same time he saw Arya in the door way looking at Jon in alarm. Benjen excused himself from Cersie Lannister and quickly made his way over to the door way leading to the kitchen where Jon was trying to calm a distressed Arya.

 

“Arya, I remember your mother being pregnant with you. Am I liar?”

 

“You were five, Jon! You could be confused!”

 

“I’m not! Arya-“

 

Benjen cut him off, taking Arya by the hand. “Let’s have a talk, huh?” he said dragging her along before she could protest. He was sure that Jon was following along, but he needed to take care of this where prying eyes would look on. He was going to take them to Ned’s solar, but that felt wrong. He was supposed to be comforting the kids not reminding them of what they had lost. Instead he took them to Arya’s room. He led his niece over the bed before sitting down and taking her by the shoulder.

 

“Look at me.” Benjen said sternly waiting to Arya to look him in the eye. When she finally did he said, “You are the daughter of Catelyn Stark, I promise.”

 

“How would you know? You were on a mission beyond the Wall.” Arya said, glaring at him with teary eyes.

 

“I know this because when I came back, I got leave to come see you. Your mother let me hold you for maybe a minuet before taking you back, she did not want to put you down. Trust me when I tell you that you are hers. Not only are you hers, she adored you.”

 

Arya looked at him sniffling before launching into his arms hard enough to make him give a soft oof-noise. She hald him tight, crying, repeating over and over how she wanted her parents. “I know, Sweet girl, I wish they were here too.”

 

Benjen got the girl into his lap and just held her. Even when her tears had turned to sniffles, she clung to him. As he held the though crossed his mind that he would need to find out what to do with her. Lysa might calm down enough to take her, but he doubted it. If she was going on about how she was illegitimate now, she would probably bring it up later. That, of course, hinged on if she would still take Arya. He doubted it. But where could she go? He could not keep her and the Wall might have started to take women, but they were not going to take a ten year old. Besides if he tried that Benjen had the feeling that Ned would return from the grave to kill him. The Blackfish might work, but he was so old, ready to enjoy retirement. Edmure was still young and did not have the right temperament to deal with Arya.

 

What about Brandon?

 

The thought startled him. Brandon was not an option. Except he seemed to be the best one. True he lived in Dorne, but Arya would have moved to the Vale anyway. Brandon did not know the first thing about child rearing, but he could learn. Besides he had been good with children, especially Lya. He and Arya would get on well and the two could look out for each other. He would feel better knowing Brandon was not alone.

There other problem, to add to the others, was that Arya would be separated from her brothers and sister. They could call and email, though. Except it will be hard for Arya to go from being the middle child to an only child. She could visit. As much as he hated the idea of separating the kids, he still thought that Brandon might be the best idea . . . if not the only option. This of course only became an issue if Lysa refused to take her.

 

A soft knock at the door broke Benjen out of his thoughts. He stopped rocking and looked to see the Blackfish standing in the doorway. “The guest are starting to leave.  I have Edmure seeing to them, for now I need to speak to you.”

 

Benjen nodded before kissing Arya on the forehead. “I need to go speak to Uncle Bryden, you stay here with Jon.”

 

As soon as he slid the girl off of him Jon clambered up on the bed to sit next to Arya. With one last glance at the kids he followed Brynden out into the hallway and into a guest room. “So, what’s the verdict?”

 

Bryden sighed and rubbed his face. “If I forced her she would take Arya, but if there is a different option we should go with it. She will leave the others alone for Catelyn, but she is really convinced the girl is not Cat’s, it’s going to be a true fight to get her to take her.”

 

Benjen nodded. “I figured. I was thinking of asking my brother Brandon to take her in.”

 

Bryden raised an eyebrow at that. “You think he is capable of looking after her?”

 

“I think he can, I also think he is the only option.”

 

“It could be temporary until we find another option or Lysa comes to her senses.”

 

Benjen nodded in agreement.

 

“Well then. You call that brother of yours and I will start getting the kids ready to leave. Lysa is itching to go and I think she’ll be a bit more under control in the Vale.”

“You’ll look after them won’t you?” Benjen asked. He could not imagine leaving those kids along with Lysa after all that had transpired.

 

The Blackfish nodded, “I’ll be staying with them for a month to make sure everyone gets settled in. And I’ll make sure to check up on them”

 

“Good. I cant help but be worried thinking about them with Lysa at this point.”

 

“Don’t worry about Lysa, I’ll take care of her. For now worry about your brother and how we’ll break the news to the kids.”

 

That was something he did not want to think about. The Stark children were close and the idea of separating them was hard. Even with that grim thought, Benjen made his way to his own room to call his big brother for help.

 


	2. Brandon I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brandon has conflicted feelings and battles the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. I'm sorry for how late this, i hope to get the next chapter out a lot quicker. I'm not in love with this chapter, but i just needed to publish it. Next chapter we get to hear from Arya

The difference between Dorne and the North is the difference between fire and water, the sun and the moon. They are two distinctly different places, almost complete opposites. Brandon loved Dorne for that. He loves that there is sand where once there was snow. He loves that the voices are more lilting and tongue quicker than with a Northern accent. He loved that the food burns his mouth and if he wants black bread he would have to go to a special market to get it. He loved that in Dorne he can forget who he is and what happened to his family. Down in here he can pretend that all of his siblings were alive along with his parents.

After Lya died he spent most of his time trying to forget. He moved somewhere where he thought the ghosts could not follow him. He got a job as a bartender that he knew his father would have hated him having. He has strived to do the exact opposite of what his father would have wanted or what he would have done up North.

He was doing well with forgetting, even if Ned insisted on sending letters updating Brandon on everyone’s lives complete with pictures. He was doing well, or at least well for him and then Benjen called and he crashed. The small amount of impulse control he had finally gotten had disappeared in the blink of an eye.

It was an odd feeling to be an older sibling and outlive them. He was the eldest of four and in the span of fifteen years he became the eldest of two. This is not how it was supposed to go. Brandon was supposed to die first, as the eldest, and then Ned and then Lya and then Benjen. He was still alive, so logically his siblings should be alive as well. Ned should be home in Winterfell with Catelyn and their children. Lyanna should be all over the world exploring as she always longed to do. Neither of them were doing what they are supposed to be doing, they were in the ground rotting.

When Ben called him and he crashed he headed to the nearest bar. He ordered a whiskey and downed it in a gulp before ordering another. And another. And another. And another. And another and eventually he cannot keep track of the number. If he stops drinking he will start thinking and he cannot do that. Thinking always leads to the guilt, the guilt that threatens to strangle him. Brandon had not seen his brother since little Sansa – who was no so little anymore- was born.  He had always told Ned that he would come next year, always next year, but now there was no next year. He would never get to see his little brother again. Never would Ned give him that look that made Brandon feel as if Ned was the elder and not he. Never again would Ned call just to make sure Brandon was alive. Never again would his little brother send him letter full of pictures and love and a desperation to connect. Ned was gone.

Oberyn Martell was the one to scrape him off of the ground when he loses the inevitable fight he gets in. He was also the one to nag Brandon to pick up the phone when Benjen calls a second time. He really does not want to. Really does not want to hear any more about younger siblings who were long gone and of his responsibility to the North. Oberyn wares him down, though, as he always does.

“If you do not call him back, you are going to regret it.” he had said sitting across from him at the table, drinking her coffee as Ellaria forced him to eat breakfast.

“I don’t know what to say to him…and anyway Ben is more responsible than me. He’ll be fine.”

Obeyrn leveled a look at him, unusually serious, “I know better than anyone what you are going through, Brandon. After everything with Elia, I could focus on nothing else. If Doran needed me, I didn’t know…and at this point I never will. I will always continue to call for justice for my sister, but I also need to do what I can for the living. Call your brother.”

He had stared at Oberyn for a good minute before letting out a breath and taking the phone that had been slid across the table to him. Now he is standing in the second room in his apartment that had acted as place to throw his overflow items, now it has a new job to do; act as a little girl’s bedroom. All of his stuff had been moved to make way for the furniture that Ellaria had picked out. The change feels odd…not just wrong but bad. Was the furniture right? Ellaria had picked it out with Arianne, so it had to be, but should he have painted the walls? Lyanna’s room had been lavender and Brandon’s childhood bedroom had been a dark blue, but Arya’s would be off-white. He should wait to paint though, shouldn’t he? He might choose a color she hates and then they are stuck with it. Just like they would be stuck with each other.

That thought was more worrying than the colors of a room. Over the past week while he had tried to get everything together he had tried hard not to think about actually meeting the girl. He had never met Arya, only seen her in the photos that Ned sent. After Ben had called about him taking Arya in, he had gone to find the photographs, all of them had been shoved into a shoebox under the bed. Photos upon photos of family members he knows and does not know all at once. He’s lucky that Cat’s perfect penmanship is on the back of each photos, telling who is who and what the dates are. He has to dig to the bottom of the box to find pictures of Arya. It takes only one look at the first picture he grabs of her to remind him why her pictures have made their way to the bottom.

She looks too much like Lya. In the picture she stood in a field of flowers, probably in the Riverlands, and was holding a mangy bundle of wildflowers to whoever was holding the camera. He had hoped his memory was wrong and she looked like Cat when he had tried to remember what Arya looked like. Instead of Tully red hair and bright blue eyes, she had the ice gray eyes of the Starks and the dark unruly thick hair to match. He sees the same wildness that Lya had possessed in her eyes and that same wide smile.

Every picture he looked at that had Arya in it made him think of Lya. By the end of it he had almost called Benjen back to say that he could not do it. He could not look at this girl who looked so much like his sister. He had moved to Dorne to get away from the reminders of his parents and Lya and he was not sure he wanted to give that up. When he had mentioned it to Ellaria when she had called about furniture she had been less than impressed.

“What do you mean you do not need furniture? The girl needs somewhere to sleep, Brandon”

“Look I don’t know if her moving in is the best idea.”

There was silence on the other line for so long that Brandon thought she had hung up, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m having second thoughts. I don’t know the first thing about raising children, Ellaria, she would be better off with someone else.”

“You said Benjen said Arya had nowhere else to go.”

“He did say that bu-“

“So if Arya has nowhere else to go, where is this better person?”

“I don’t know, El’ he had said, getting more frustrated by the second, ‘Someone could convince her great uncle to do it. She could go stay with Robert Baratheon’s family, they were always so close.”

“Are you serious? Brandon the girl is your niece and she needs you, not some family friend or a great uncle who probably has little time for her. You’ve said before that you felt guilty for not being able to protect Lya, and I am sorry but you cannot protect her. You can, however, protect your niece from being passed around to people who have made it clear that they cannot or will not take her on.”

Brandon scrubbed a hand down his face and let out a sigh, “Your right, Ellaria.”

“Of course I am. Now what do you think a desk would fit in the room?”

There had been more than one conversation like that, every time Oberyn or Ellaria would remind him of what was the most important part of this situation. The two of them truly were sent by the Gods, they were the family he had needed when things went wrong, especially after the Ashara-situation. Those had been dark days and most people would have abandoned him during that time. He probably would have been even more nervous about having Arya living with him if he had not known that Ellaria would be there to help him attempt to raise another human.

His phone ringing pulled him from his thoughts.

“Brandon, it’s Ben. We just picked up the car and on our way, wanted to give you some warning.” Ben said, his voice forcibly chipper.

“Uh, okay, Ben. Just hit the button when you get here and I’ll buzz you up.”

“Great! We’ll see you then.”

“Hey…um, Ben, are you okay?”

“Yes, Brandon everything is fine. We’ll see you in twenty minutes.” With that Ben hung up the phone.

Obviously he was putting on a brave face for the kids…he was supposed to be doing that too, right? Kids needed the adults around them to act normally to be calm or at least that’s what Ashara had said and he trusted her. As a dance instructor she had a lot more experience with kids than he did and children always seemed to like her. This was one of those moments he wished she was still around she would know what to do. She had been the one to basically raise Allaryia when their parents died and her elder brother had gone off to school. She was not here though, so he would have to go it alone.

Brandon made his way out of what would be Arya’s room to the kitchen. Was he supposed to make lunch or something? He was embarrassed to admit that his refrigerator was pretty bare but he did not cook much. He usually ate at Oberyn’s house or picked some up at work. He would have to take Arya to the grocery store to get her what she wanted to eat. Maybe he would ask Ellaria to go to just to be sure they were getting the right things or maybe he would do it before Benjen left. Maybe he could convince Benjen to leave the Night’s Watch and just stay. Ben had always been the easiest to convince of all of them as a child, but Brandon wondered if he was still that way. He had not seen Ben in years, between the Night's Watch and Brandon actively avoiding his family there was no real opportunity to see each other. Now Ben would be staying for three days and then leaving him and Arya to fend for themselves.

 It was unfair really, Brandon had grumbled to himself as he pulled a beer out of the fridge. Lysa lost her damn mind and now Brandon had to clean up the pieces. Ned really should have planned for this, Lysa had been insane for as long as Brandon could remember. Granted Brandon had only met her maybe twice and his memory was vague, but it was hard to see that no one saw this coming. Had someone thought to double check none of them would be in this position. He had questioned Ben on the matter the last time they spoke and had gotten last than satisfactory answers.

_“Why would they even leave the kids to Lysa?”_

_“I’m sure they thought it was for the best, Brandon. Lysa has a son close to Bran’s age and when they set up the will Jon Arryn was still alive. I think that her grief is getting the best of her.”_

_“Then tell her to get it together and take her niece.”_

_“Look. That is not going to happen any time soon. At present I cannot take Arya and Brynden Tully and I are trying to figure something out. This will most likely be temporary, no more than a year.”_

_“Can you promise that?”_

_“No, but I can do my best. If there was any other option right now, big brother, I would not be asking you.”_

He took a swig of beer and tried to ignore the rankled feeling that came from being the last resort. If there was anyone else in the world to send Arya to they would have. If there was anyone else in the world they could trust with a child they would send his niece there. He could not blame them, but damn if that did not sting. It did not help anything to know that his little brother was actively looking with the Blackfish for an alternative as if in a year Arya would be all too ready to whisked away to someone who actually knew what they were doing. Again logically he knew it was fair, but he still felt a bit hurt.

Just as he went for a second beer, if only to take the edge off, the buzzer went off alerting him to the arrival of his brother. He clicked the button to open the door and barked into the speaker to come up. A minute later he heard a knock at the door. He made his way to the door, but froze once his hand grasped the knob. Once he opened it he could not turn back, he would have to face his family, maybe face the past and was not sure he could do that.

It was a little voice, muffled by the door, “We could just leave now and go home. No one would ever know we were here. I’ll just stay in Winterfell, it’ll be fine.”

A deeper one answered with exasperation, “Arya, no. We’ve had this conversation one too many times, you are too young to be staying by yourself.”

He opened the door before the bickering could continue. Benjen’s was the first face he laid eyes on. It was jarring to see his baby brother all grown up. His face was learner and his eyes were a bit harder. His brother was sporting a full beard, neatly kept, but still so different than the clean faced kid that Brandon pictured when he pictured his brother. Next to Ben stood a boy close to his height. He had the same long lean face of the starks with grey eyes. His hair was a bit darker than Brandon’s and a bit longer. His rather somber expression made him look a lot like Ned at that age. He assumed that this was Jon. Next to him stood Arya. Smaller than Ben and Jon small boned, she was all big eyes and sharp angels.

Arms wrapping around him stopped him from staring at the group.

“Hello, big brother.”

“Hey, Ben.”


End file.
